I just finished my afternoon swim and massage and I was getting my updates from the Washington Post and New York Times. It's a slow News Day. Trump hasn't fired anyone and Wolf Blitzer isn't apoplectic because no new lies have surfaced.
I see I have some comments on my most recent thread .
The usual assortment of some of our undergraduates coming onto our Board and posting maniacal pictures of Donald Trump and saying those snarky things that only kids just graduated from High School can conjure up.
It occurred to me that many of you are curious about my commitment to help you through the tedium of your day.
I owe you an explanation of how Sports Blogs really function.
There are 4 constituencies.
The first are the Cheerleaders, aka, the Blind Loyalists. Second are The Fans, aka, the Hopeful. And then we have the Never Satisfied, aka, as the Unrealistic
Now each of these 3 constituencies are selectively ignorant in their own way.
And the result is , nothing ever gets sorted out.
Enter the Trolls.
The Trolls bring these blind souls into an engagement of ideas not otherwise possible.
Go through the threads on this Board. It is a cacophony of babble. Here you have fat, paunchy middle aged men trying to be expert in a sport they never partipated in.
Sure, many of them were Student Managers and groupies who hung around with Jocks and can talk the lingo
When I was playing my sport I was constantly being friended these hapless nerds that wanted some of my charisma to rub off on them.
So in the autumn of my life I want to help these pathetic creatures out.
I never aspired to be a Troll.
It just seemed like the right thing to do.

Cut it out! Cut it out! Cut it out! The hell's the matter with you?! Stupid! We're all very different people. We're not Watusi. We're not Spartans. We're Musketeers, with a capital 'M', huh? You know what that means? Do ya? We're the underdog. We're mutts! Here's proof: his nose is cold! But there's no animal that's more faithful, that's more loyal, more loveable than the mutt. Who saw Old Yeller? Who cried when Old Yeller got shot at the end? Nobody cried when Old Yeller got shot? I'm sure. I cried my eyes out. So we're all dogfaces. We're all very, very different, but there is one thing that we all have in common: we were all stupid enough to tie our fanaticism to a college basketball team. We're mutants. There's something wrong with us, something very, very wrong with us. Something seriously wrong with us! We're Musketeers, but we're Xavier Musketeers! We've been kickin' ass for 34 years! We're 788 and 327! Now we don't have to worry about whether or not we have enough guys to even practice. We don't have to worry about whether Blueitt's ankle gets better soon. All we have to do is to be the great Xavier Musketeer fan that is inside each one of us. Now do what I do, and say what I say. And make me proud. Fall in!

MuskieFan82
You are the most optimistic member of this Board bar none.
There was so much pessimism surfacing this morning that I wanted to put an end to it.
But I never expected you would flat out nail it.
I see none of the children have thanked you for your optimism.
So I will for them and myself.
Thank You.

I just finished my afternoon swim and massage and I was getting my updates from the Washington Post and New York Times. It's a slow News Day. Trump hasn't fired anyone and Wolf Blitzer isn't apoplectic because no new lies have surfaced.
I see I have some comments on my most recent thread .
The usual assortment of some of our undergraduates coming onto our Board and posting maniacal pictures of Donald Trump and saying those snarky things that only kids just graduated from High School can conjure up.
It occurred to me that many of you are curious about my commitment to help you through the tedium of your day.
I owe you an explanation of how Sports Blogs really function.
There are 4 constituencies.
The first are the Cheerleaders, aka, the Blind Loyalists. Second are The Fans, aka, the Hopeful. And then we have the Never Satisfied, aka, as the Unrealistic
Now each of these 3 constituencies are selectively ignorant in their own way.
And the result is , nothing ever gets sorted out.
Enter the Trolls.
The Trolls bring these blind souls into an engagement of ideas not otherwise possible.
Go through the threads on this Board. It is a cacophony of babble. Here you have fat, paunchy middle aged men trying to be expert in a sport they never partipated in.
Sure, many of them were Student Managers and groupies who hung around with Jocks and can talk the lingo
When I was playing my sport I was constantly being friended these hapless nerds that wanted some of my charisma to rub off on them.
So in the autumn of my life I want to help these pathetic creatures out.
I never aspired to be a Troll.
It just seemed like the right thing to do.

Completely disagree. I'd rather read the back and forth on this topic rather than the Climate Change thread. Speaking of, I need to stoke that fire a little.

I go to Climate Change a few times/year. I like actual decent basketball conversation. Or anything funny. Or any decent topic. This feels suspiciously like previous clowns who pop up from time to time to "be provactive and generate replys". If it were at all funny, or intelligent in any way I'd probably feel differently. At least be clever and amusing....is that too much?

Son, if you think I'm an undergraduate, you haven't spent anytime on this board.
But the more you go on, the more I'm convinced the picture of Trump fits you perfectly.
After watching his press conference and reading your stuff, you may, in fact, be him.

XU 87
I read your post asking me to "Move On" last night before our Maid turned down our covers and I slipped into bed for a great nights sleep.
It was a gentle way to put it.
Your showing some class that we Muskies must always put forth.
I understand why you would like me gone.
Contrary opinions can be upsetting to people fixated on their parochial views.
But while your post did not have the consequence you intended, it was not in vain.
You induced a dream that I wanted to share with you and my fellow Muskies.
In this dream, it was like l was in the middle of a Passion Play.
I was Jesus. You and your ilk were the blind Jews who could not fathom my divinity.
You went to SkyWalker ( Herod ) and wanted me eliminated.
SkyWalker said "I have no beef with GOX. Handle it yourselves."
So you and the rest of the Losers hatched a plan.
The Plan was you would ask your wives for an advance on your weekly allowances and meet at Dana Gardens .
You would pool your meager resources to create a "Get SkyWalker Drunk Fund".
When drunk, he would sign an order banning me for life.
But the Plan fell apart.
SkyWalker was late.
Because he was tardy, and your guys were drunk, you dipped into the SkyWalker fund to buy more shots for yourselves. When the SkyWalker Fund went dry you asked my old friend Hershel Ware to put you on credit.
Hershel's new bosses are more profit driven than old Dan, but he took a risk and kept you rolling.
By the time Skywalker arrived, one of you had dared the other to be a baller like J.P. and drop Trou.
SkyWalker walked in to see a group of paunchy , middle aged white men , hanging on the bar, with one of them hanging their junk for all to see.
He called me for advice.
What do I do with these Losers he said.
I told him not to ban your sorry asses from the Board like you Losers wanted to do to me.
I know he told you about my magnificence.
And I know because you are Men For Others, you will be like the Wise Men, wanting to send me gifts.
None of that is necessary.
Just pay your Dana's bar bill before I see Hershel.
He knows I am the only Muskie that comes in that has any extra money to bail the Losers out.